


aftermath

by prowlish



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlish/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: Time to unwind after taking back the Lost Light.





	aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> I have a whole host of fics I've been writing forever that essentially magically place the crew back on the LL after the events of DOTL so uh... here's one of those. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> lowkey blaming this one on mads and gil who both enabled me hard w this

After all the work of reclaiming and settling in and feeling out their way on this ship that had been their home, all Drift wanted was a thorough and proper shower and to crawl into a berth. It wasn't until he stepped into a stall and glanced around that he remembered.

 

"Scrap," he muttered.

 

As a precaution, they'd rounded up all containers, big and small, that could have contained anything volatile, explosive, or otherwise problematic for them. Not fun work, but a necessity pointed out by Ultra Magnus. They'd just gotten back -- why risk losing it all being caught unawares?

 

Unfortunately, that also included the bottles of different solvents stored in the washrack stalls. HIs personal ones were packed away somewhere, and he’d trekked down here with the assumption that the standard ones would be in stock. He'd just have to go find one... though the prospect filled him with leaden exhaustion. One more task wasn't so much -- just go downstairs, get a bottle of solvent -- but it seemed like a herculean feat. The day had been a long one, following a long week, following a long solar cycle. Action was his preferred method of losing undesirable thoughts and feelings, but he felt like he'd depleted his stores, and he was "home" now.

 

That meant he should be able to rest. Right? He hadn't ever had a home before, but from what he knew, it was supposed to be a sacred place of rest and belonging. Or... something.

 

Drift sighed. He would go, and if he didn't feel like trekking all the way back down, he would just go to his room and recharge and save the cleanse for tomorrow. 

 

When he turned, though, he was face to face with another mech and jumped. How tired and spaced out was he? He'd heard nothing! 

 

"Rodimus," he said, sighing as recognition released the tension in his frame. If he had to run into someone in this state, there was no one better. 

 

Rodimus tilted his helm and squeezed Drift's elbow, which he'd grabbed to steady the mech when he'd startled back."You alright?"

 

Drift smiled a little, though it was short lived. "Yeah," he said. "Long day. I forgot we moved all the bottles and stuff for inspection."

 

Rodimus chuckled. "I didn't," he said, holding a bottle up in his other hand. He the free hand to nudge Drift's shoulder, encouraging him back into the stall. "C'mon, we can share."

 

Well. Considering how much he'd been dreading leaving the washracks, he couldn't find it in himself to argue. Not that he'd really argue with sharing a shower stall with Rodimus in the first place, but. He flashed the captain another smile. "Thanks," he said.

 

Rodimus grinned. "No worries." He stepped in, pulling the screen shut behind them as Drift went ahead and started the spray. Turning around to see the warm water start to roll down Rodimus's frame, and even though he'd been the one to repaint him in blue and purple, he still wasn't used to it -- the fiery colors had so well matched Rodimus's passion and intensity. 

 

Either way, it ended up to his advantage, having another set of hands to help get to all the new spots he wasn't used to looking for on a new frame. In fact, he was almost embarrassed at the amount of attention Rodimus showed in cleansing every piece of plating and all the seams between that he could reach. His frame was pleasantly warm from the water and this treatment, and he honestly couldn't say he was surprised when Rodimus's hands slid down his front to tease lower on his frame.

 

Drift smiled a little, turning his helm, only for Rodimus to make an amused hum against his audio as his fingertips boldly played with the seams of Drift's interface hatch. 

 

He squirmed and chuckled, enjoying just the feeling for the moment, but eventually he let the panels fold back. He tilted his helm back against Rodimus's shoulder, letting a soft moan slip from his lips as Rodimus played with his bared equipment, teasing out his spike and stroking his fingers along its length. 

 

"Rodimus -- " he gasped, arching in the mech's arms, charge lighting up his field all of a sudden. Drift ended up bracing one of his arms against the wall, his plating shivering as Rodimus stayed close to his frame, engine rumbling as he stroked Drift's spike in a steady rhythm. 

 

Plating scraped together and Drift focused his gaze again as the warmth of Rodimus's frame pressed to his back ebbed away. He would have turned to investigate except now -- there he was, kneeling in front of him, that wicked smile playing at his lips. 

 

Drift parted his lips, but whatever words he'd intended to say dissipated immediately as Rodimus wrapped his lips around his spike and sucked his length into his hot and eager mouth. Moaning instead, Drift grasped at Rodimus's helm with the hand that wasn't clutching the wall in front of him. He felt Rodimus rev his engine, the sound of it reverberating off the close walls of the stall and yet curiously muted beneath the relentless warm spray of the shower. 

 

Rodimus's hands grasped his hips, tugging him forward a little, encouraging him to press his spike further, against the back of the mech's throat. Drift hissed out a vent, his plating shuddering as he murmured Rodimus's name. Rodimus's engine rumbled again, his hands shifting to -- no -- yes, he was definitely now squeezing Drift's aft.

 

If he were less overwhelmed, it was the kind of thing that would make him roll his optics and swat Rodimus's hands. As it was, Drift squeezed the hand that was on Rodimus's helm and carefully rocked his hips.

 

Rodimus moaned around his spike and Drift grasped the wall tighter this time, his knees weak. 

 

He cursed under his vents, starting a gentle rhythm in and out of Rodimus's mouth, a deep excitement about it that was enticing in a "forbidden" way -- not in actuality, just in the fact that he didn't normally  _ do _ this. But Rodimus was obviously encouraging it and Primus, a good overload to end this day was the best thing he could've imagined.

 

Except, perhaps, sharing an overload. 

 

"Rodimus," he murmured softly, shifting his hand to Rodimus's shoulder to try and tug him upwards. In response, Rodimus clutched at his hips and sucked hard around Drift's spike. Drift gasped, his vision blurring for a split second as a fresh wave of pleasure rocked through his frame. He moved his hips with it, letting Rodimus's whims guide him.

 

They stayed that way for an indeterminate amount of time, the minutes uncountable in the pleasure of gently thrusting into a willing mouth. Eventually, though, Rodimus relented and obeyed Drift’s earlier tugging, standing up and grinning at Drift. He licked his lips lewdly. Drift scoffed, leaning in close to kiss him hungrily. 

 

Rodimus was more than happy to indulge, but it was no lazy affair; Drift was hot and full of hunger, his hands groping between his captain's legs -- and finding an already exposed interface.

 

Perfect.

 

Drift felt the slickness of Rodimus's valve, tracing his fingers teasingly around his entrance and playing with his anterior node. Rodimus moaned against his lips, his engine throttling and drawing more shivers out of Drift's frame. Panting, Drift pushed back, gazing up at Rodimus for a moment... and slipped his hands away. Before Rodimus could even think to open his mouth in protest, Drift turned him around and pressed him forward against the stall wall. 

 

He turned his helm to glance back at Drift, a smirk on his lips. "Is that how you want it?" he purred.

 

"What do you think?" Drift murmured against his audio, pressing his frame flush to Rodimus's again. Their trembling plating clattered together, sending sparks through their fields. His spike, eager and throbbing with unresolved charge, brushed against Rodimus's aft and thighs -- at least, until Rodimus shifted his hips a little and then it was his slippery valve teasing Drift's length.

 

Drift panted, grunting softly as he reached between them to get his spike positioned properly to nudge just between his slick folds. Rodimus squirmed between him in and the wall, groaning his name. He moaned against Rodimus's audio as he pressed forward, slowly even though his valve offered barely any resistance. "Come on," he groaned, a dull thunk in front of him illustrating the way Rodimus had leaned his helm against the wall. His entire frame trembled against and around Drift, and yet he held still.

 

He wrapped an arm around Rodimus's waist, venting deeply, his hand grasping the wall very close to one of Rodimus's hands. He sighed softly, nosing Rodimus's audio, letting his optics dim a little. "I missed you," he said softly.

 

They'd told each other this before, and while it hadn't been any less true then... it hadn't seemed to reach the core of the feeling until now.

 

Drift felt Rodimus's helm turn, trying to look back at him again, but he'd have trouble with it with the way Drift had his face pressed at this back angle of his neck and helm. 

 

"Drift..." he said softly. But before he could say anymore, Drift finally moved his frame, rocking his hips into Rodimus's. Shallow, at first -- gentle, like the way he'd thrust into the mech's mouth. But eventually passion overcame him and he soon thrust into Rodimus's valve, quick and deep, his spike lighting up with every spasm of charge the nodes lining Rodimus's clutching valve gave him.

 

He grunted the mech's name, a throaty sound leaving his vocalizer as Rodimus moved his hand to press over the one Drift had braced against the wall. Drift barely had time to register it, to fully appreciate Rodimus's hand wrapping around his own, because Rodimus also overloaded in the same instant. Calipers squeezed even tighter around his spike and the bright pulse of charge flashed through him, lifting his systems to a divine height. He buried his face tighter against Rodimus's neck, thrusting into his seizing valve several more times, hard and erratic, until his own overload swept through him and left him leaning strutless against Rodimus's frame, panting.

 

After a few moments, somehow made quiet and eternal by the ever present spray of the shower over them, Rodimus stirred. Drift didn't bother to move until he did, lifting his helm and very gently uncoupling their equipment. Rodimus shuddered against him, but turned around to smirk at him, seemingly delighted.

 

"You're such a sap," he remarked. 

 

Drift arched an optic ridge, lifting up their hands which were still interlinked. Rodimus grinned and tugged him forward until they were nose to nose... and then the normal mischief smoothed into something else. 

 

"I missed you too, you weirdo." 


End file.
